ten million fireflies
by Streaks of Hail
Summary: Jemma knows every regular to hit the library. So who's this curly-haired, blue-eyed boy? (And why does he keep turning up at four o'clock on the dot?)
1. you're the only north star

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: Just a little AU. I'd really like to write more of this and broaden it out into a proper series, so feel free to tell me your opinion!

...

Jemma's never really aspired to be a librarian. If you'd asked her as a little girl what she wanted her job to be, she would have said something terribly exciting, like a scientist or a doctor or even an astronaut (extraterrestrial topics are terribly exciting, even at that young age - even though that may have partly been inspired by ET). Certainly not a librarian, at any rate. But her scholarship for the Academy's run out, and she's come to realise that studying at such a top-notch school is rather tolling on the bank account, especially when you live in an entirely new country all together.

So part time jobs it is. And really, it's rather fitting that she's managed to get herself a position as a librarian. She's always surrounded herself with books even as a child, whether it be getting lost in tales of fairies and dragons and nights in shining armour, or whether it be detailed, scientific novels of discoveries.

(Sometimes, she'd even resorted to stealing the newpaper from her dad when he wasn't looking.)

And to be honest, Jemma doesn't actually mind it. Sure, she could be partying with her friends (not her forte anyway, thank you very much Skye) or studying or even calling up her parents to see how they were doing, but she finds enough time in the day for those things as well.

Besides, she rather likes the company and atmosphere of the time library. Her boss is a friendly man with a shiny red car (also known as Phil Coulson, Skye's dad), the general over-seer's are a group of three identical triplets, all of which go by the name Koenig, and a grumpy British co-worker called Lance who claims he's only there because of his she-devil ex-wife.

It's a strange mix, to say the least. But she likes it. She likes starting friendly conversations with the customers, bickering with Lance over which book goes where, and laughing behind her hand as the Koenig's try to explain the scratch on Mr Coulson's car.

And while she likes stacking away books and helping little kids back to their parents, she enjoys manning the front desks best, chatting to people and building connections. For the most part Lance lets her take the bulk of that job, but he'll suspiciously take over when there's an attractive woman asking for help.

Fortunately, four o'clock on a Wednesday evening doesn't particularly seem to bring about any pretty girls, so Jemma's on duty, working away quietly behind the desk. No point in doing nothing when there's no one there, so she often brings her assignments with her and works while she's waiting.

This does mean she gets rather absorbed in her own little world, so it does take an awkward mumbled hello before she finally realises someone is standing at the desk.

Leaping up immediately, she shoots the person in question an apologetic smile, shoving her papers aside and snapping to attention. "Sorry! I was just doing some studying. Can I help you?"

"It's fine," he responds, and now she finally gets a chance to see who the customer really is. He's a curly-haired, blue-eyed man with a symmentrical face and she can't quite tell but she's certain she's seen him before somewhere. When he speaks, she's hit with another sense of familiarity as well. Hearing an accent like his is like another reminder of home again (although she should be used to it, Lance is a perfect example). "Can I.. uh, issue this?"

She peers at the book he's set on the desk and grabs it with another nod. "Of course," she tells him in a friendly fashion. "Do you have a library card?"

He blinks. "No."

"Would you like one, then?" she prompts gently, grabbing one from the desk and waving it at him. "It's free, I promise."

"I guess so," he says, scratching the back of his neck. Offering him another smile, she switches on the computer. If she was one to judge by first appearance, she'd either say he's very sullen or very shy. Unfortunately, neither are particularly easy to work with, but she's patient. It's just a good thing no one else is waiting in line at the moment.

It takes a moment for the computer to start up (it's an old one with probably less power then her phone), but when it does she hands him a pen and a form. Leaning over the desk, she points out various gaps for him. "Just fill in the blanks. Your name, birth date, etc. Shouldn't take too long, then I can just put your information into the computer and scan your book. Easy enough?"

"Yeah," he nods, and there's silence for a moment before she catches herself watching him scribble his details down, and turns away quickly to focus on the computer screen. When he's finally done, she grabs the paper from him with a curious smile.

"Thanks... Leopold."

He winces and she's afraid for a moment that she's struck a nerve, but then he just shrugs apologetically and explains. "I go by Fitz, actually. My mum thought it would be a wise idea to name me Leopold, of all the names."

She can't help but laugh when he wrinkles his nose, and she stows his form away for filing later. "Fitz it is, then." Tugging his book closer to her, she clicks impatiently at the computer, wishing that it went faster. Unfortunately, it only beeps at her in response and continues to load in an agonisingly slow pace. "Sorry," she tells Fitz. "My boss could scrape up a better computer if he tried, but he's too busy looking after his fancy red car."

It's not said with malice, of course. She loves Coulson, even if he does bore everyone with his dad jokes and fret about his car far a little (a lot).

Fitz looks faintly surprised at this. "The Corvette is your boss's car? Is he rich?"

"No," Jemma laughs, letting out a noise of triumph as the computer finally loads and she grabs for the scanner. "Someone just owes him a lot of favours, apparently. And his wife is a pretty famous stunt double."

She scans his book in one easy motion, taps a few buttons, and then hands the book back to him with a friendly smile. "Here you go."

"Thanks," he smiles in return, and fleetingly she thinks that he looks much nicer when he's actually happy.

"No problem, Mr Fitz," she returns, and soon all that's left of him is the door swinging closed and his form sitting under the desk. Seemingly out of nowhere, Lance appears with a ridiculous cowboy hat perched atop his head.

"Who was that?" he queries, slinging himself lazily over the counter.

Jemma pulls a face at him. "What are you wearing?" When he opens his mouth with an affronted look, she shakes her head and stops him before he can continue. Honestly, she'd rather not know. "Nevermind. Don't tell me please. And he was just a customer. A new one, I think. Rather sullen, though."

"Sullen?" Lance snorts, flicking at a board and jumping in surprise when he swung back to almost hit him in the face. "Seemed more like he was starstruck to me."

"Shut up," she says, but she's blushing all the same and scribbling furiously at Weaver's assignment to hide it. As if recalling someting important, she pauses to shoot him a look. "And take off that horrible hat!"

"Aw, c'mon," Lance pouts, tipping the brim of his hat and smirking at her from behind it. "I think it suits me, actually. What're you gonna do about it, Miss Prim and Proper? _Make_ me take it off?"

"I'll tell Coulson about the time you took Lola for a joy ride," she calls threateningly after him as he retreats to the other end of the library.

"Oh, you're _cruel_."

...

She's looking after the little kids when he returns the next day, at the exact same time. Four o'clock, on the dot.

"It's okay, Seth. I'm sure the book will be there tomorrow, or next week," she soothes the little boy, who's staring grumpily at her and kicking his legs back and forth on the seat. Beside him sits Callie, who looks nonplussed as she reads _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_, and Donnie, who's busy trying to build something with lego, pencil lead and a book about dinosaurs.

"But I want it _now_," Seth whines. Jemma tries not to get flustered and gives him a reassuring smile instead.

"I know, Seth, I know. Look," she plucks up a random book from the shelf in haste, "how about you read this for now? _Where the Wild Things Are_. It's very exciting, I promise."

"But-" She doesn't hear the rest of the child's complaint, because suddenly she's caught sight of someone entering the library. Without even pausing to check who it is, she tucks the book under Seth's arm, pats him swiftly on the head and shoots a glare over to Lance.

"Oops, I've got something to do. Mr Lance will help you guys, okay? I'll be back in a minute." She's scurrying off before the kids can start a riot, although she does catch Lance's horrified calls for help as she leaves him to deal with the troublesome trio with a satisfied smile.

To her surprise, it's not a regular like Audrey Nathan or Mike Peterson and his adorable son Ace, but the blue-eyed man from the day before, with a book in his hands and looking terribly awkward.

"Hello," she chirps cheerfully, scurrying behind the desk in a flurry. "Sorry for keeping you waiting again. Don't worry, I've used you as an excuse to escape a tantrum."

"I saw," Fitz grins - a rather rare sight, but it's nice all the same. "You're.. uh, you're good with kids."

"I wouldn't say that," she laughs, waving off the compliment, but she's smiling broadly and she's pretty sure her cheeks are tinged pink. "But thank you. Did you want to issue anything, or did you just stop for a chat?"

"Oh, right." He jolts like he's just remembered something, and hurriedly throws a book up onto the table like his life depends on it. "Here," he says, looking terribly embarrassed (or at least, she imagines he does. She can't really tell).

"You must be new around here," Jemma comments as she waits for the computer to load as per usual. After all, this is the time she normally uses to chat with people. "I haven't seen you before," she explains hurriedly when he looks slightly confused.

"No," he says sheepishly. "Not really. I've been here for a while now. I've just been doing some.. some studying."

"And you only thought to visit the library now?" Jemma retorts teasingly as the computer finally loads and she scans the book through with a wave. "I'm disappointed in you, Fitz."

He shrugs and she decides that he really must be quite shy. "Have fun with your book," she tells him. "Have a nice day. I'd better check to see if Lance hasn't made anyone cry yet." He hesitates for a moment, and then grabs the book and leaves. She's left running back to Lance and the kids she'd abandoned, fully expecting to see chaos. Instead, Seth and Donnie are building blocks quietly, and Callie's attempting to out-build the boys with her own creation.

"How'd you do it?" she asks Lance in wonder, who's slumped on an armchair with his phone in his hands and his hat perched on his head.

"I just have a way with kids," he smirks cockily.

"You bribed them with ice cream, didn't you?" she accuses.

"Miss Jemma?" She whirls to find Callie tugging at her dress and peering up at her with wide eyes. "Was that man your boyfriend?"

Lance snorts.


	2. i would follow this far

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: Here's the next chapter! For now this is all, but I'm definitely planning to write some more in this little AU, so keep an eye out for that.

...

The next day, he's back at four again. At this point, Jemma really shouldn't be surprised. Maybe he's going to make it a thing. She knows some people who stick quite closely to schedule, like Audrey Nathan who only visits on Thursdays and Fridays, and Raina who lingers by the romance section every Tuesday, and Melinda May who drops off Coulson's keys every Saturday. But there's never really been anyone who arrives exactly at a specific time without fail.

Wildly, she wonders how he does it. Maybe he has a watch and he times himself. Maybe he waits outside the library until precisely four o'clock. Or maybe, she chides herself, he's just a normal person who happens to finish his work or studies or some sort of business right at the perfect time to visit the library at precisely four in the evening.

Nevertheless, this time she's ready when he enters. No being lost in studies, no being distracted by troublesome children (as cute as they are, they really are a handful).

She waits patiently while he chooses a book, clicking away on the computer and trying to pretend that she's not texting Bobbi and Skye as she sits behind the counter. Eventually he draws up to the counter, and she's flashing him a smile before he can open his mouth.

When he sets his book on the counter, she can't help but raise an eyebrow curiously at him. "Do you have a child, Mr Fitz?"

His eyes widen almost comically and she has to fight the heavy urge to laugh, instead picking up the book and tapping impatiently at the computer. "Just a bit of light reading, then?"

"I must've picked up the wrong book," he mumbles, and then she really can't stop the giggles as she passes _The Cat In The Hat _back to him. He leaves rather hurriedly that day.

"Weird one, isn't he?" Lance grins from his side of the desk, flicking through his phone and doing probably everything but his job.

"No," she disagrees, shaking her head. "Just shy, I think."

"Whatever you say, princess," Lance scoffs.

...

For the next week, every four o'clock Fitz stops by and picks out a new book. She starts to notice the little things, like the fact that he always wears a tie on Wednesdays, and Sundays is apparently when he shaves because on Monday he always shows up looking like an eight year old girl - Lance's words, not hers, she thinks he looks perfectly fine.

Often, she'll be working on something and Lance will poke his head back and announce that her _friend_ is here to see her. She'll roll her eyes and swat at him but go to cater for Fitz anyway. Honestly, she's just saving him from Lance's terrible servicing skills.

Gradually, she'll pick up on an extra thing or two about him as the days run past. He's left his mum to move to America, he has a rather unhealthy obsession with monkeys and he's actually rather clever.

It's on a rainy Thursday afternoon when he stumbles in again, muttering curses under his breath and shaking rain from his jacket. She fights the urge to laugh and instead settles for leaning her elbows on the desk and grinning at him from behind her hands.

"Hello, Fitz. Left your umbrella at home?"

"I don't have one," he grumbles and she raises her eyebrows at him in surprise.

"You don't have an umbrella?" she echoes incredulously. "But everybody has an umbrella somewhere!"

"Yeah, well I don't," he admits, and she can't help but roll her eyes at him, fumbling under her desk.

"Here." She pulls out a pale polka-dotted umbrella that was a gift from Coulson (a rather strange one, come to think of it now) and sets it on the desk with a smile. "It's mine. You can borrow it, if you'd like."

He blinks at it in bewilderment, and she has to stifle another laugh again. "I can't," he protests.

"I don't mind, honestly," she insists, hoping her voice is as genuine as she's intending it to be. "You can use it. I've got some friends picking me up after work today so I'll barely be getting wet anyway."

He gives her a startled look for a moment, before shaking his head abruptly and pulling a face. "No, really. I can't! It's too girly," he complains, and she rolls her eyes at him.

"Just take it, Fitz." It's clear the topic's not up for discussion, even though she's openly laughing at him now. "Honestly, who's going to visit the library at four if you end up catching hypothermia in this weather?"

He grumbles under his breath but eventually grudgingly takes the umbrella, and she smiles at his retreating figure as he whines something that sounds suspciously like, "is there a bloody butterfly on this?" and leaves the building. It's only after that she properly realises that he'd never even issued a book out.

...

She hadn't been lying about her friends coming to pick her up. Right when her shift's just about to end, Skye saunters into the library like she owns it (and techincally she does, if Coulson ever decides to pass it down to her - an unlikely story) and slings herself over the front desk like it's her birthright.

"C'mon, Jemma. Bobbi's waiting in the car. Let's go," she whines, and Jemma rolls her eyes fondly at her.

"You sound like Lance."

"Hey!" comes an indignant call, and Lance pops out of nowhere. He raises his eyebrows at Skye and leans an elbow on the table, changing his attitude suddenly. "Can I come along?"

"Stay away, Lance," Jemma warns, gently stowing away her papers and grabbing her bag. "She's taken."

"What's taking you so long?" asks a new voice, and Bobbi Morse enters the library with a jingle of car keys. Immediately, Lance's mouth drops open in such a comical look of surprise that Jemma and Skye have to avoid meeting each other's gaze so as not to burst out in loud fits of giggles.

"Bobbi?" he splutters with an aghast expression.

"Hunter," Bobbi remarks coolly. "Ready to go, guys?"

Skye looks like she wants to stay and watch the drama unfold with a bowl of popcorn, but Jemma's more merciful and instead scoops up her bags with a hidden smile. "Of course. Where to?" Disbelieving looks are sent from both of her friends, and she laughs suddenly. "Right. Silly question. The usual place, then?"

"You bet, Jemma."

("Hang on-" Lance yells after them.

She's pretty sure they all take great pleasure in ignoring him.)

...

Later, when they're seated at their usual table (a private corner by the window) with drinks spread out in front of them and a bowl of chips to snack on, Skye leans forward with a mischevious look and taps the top of Bobbi's bottle with a cheeky smile.

"So, what's the deal with you and Mr Cowboy?"

"Divorce," Bobbi answers simply, pulling a face and downing the rest of her bottle as if to make a point. "Second one, actually."

This information isn't new to Jemma, who's heard about the she-devil ex-wife stories on constant repeat, but it's still funny to watch Skye's surprised expression, so she laughs anyway.

"What about you?" Skye queries, one eyebrow raised in a way that makes Jemma suspect that she's slightly tipsy. "Anything interesting in your _exciting_ job at the library?"

Jemma rolls her eyes (there's been a lot of that lately). "Honestly, Skye," she smiles, shaking her head in a strange mix of exasperation and fondness that only comes with longterm friendship. "It's not that bad. The people are nice and your dad pays well. There are worse ways to go. Besides, you can't look at me like that. At least I actually live in an apartment."

"Hey, the van is by choice!" Skye retorts defensively, while Bobbi snorts and Jemma throws her a knowing look. "Besides, don't you want something better in life? You've got, what, _two_ PhD's? It's time to do something about it, Jemma. I'm sure hanging out with Lance and chatting to little old ladies is fun, but don't you want a little something more in life?"

At this, Jemma frowns and makes a little noise of disagreement in the back of her throat. "Ah - actually, _Skye_, it's not just little old ladies visiting the library. There's plenty of other customers, such as Seth, Donnie and Callie, or Mike and Ace, or Fitz-" She freezes immediately when Bobbi and Skye exchange glances, and she looks from both suspiciously. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing," Bobbi remarks. "Just, Fitz is a new one. We've heard about all your other visitors before, why not this one?"

"Something to hide, Jemma?" smirks Skye.

Not unexpectedly, she blushes and scoffs at both her friends. "Don't be ridiculous. It's because he's new around here, I think. Quite nice, but very quiet."

Skye laughs and shakes her head at Jemma, but Bobbi pauses, frowning as she taps her finger on the table contemplatively. "Hang on, I've heard of a Fitz before. Oh - yes! Curly hair, blue eyes, Scottish accent?"

She blinks in surprise, but nods. "Yes! That sounds just like him! A bit shy, isn't he?"

"Aw," Skye coos playfully, but Bobbi looks like she's lost in thought yet again.

"But Fitz isn't exactly shy, Jemma. Sure, he's can be quiet when he tries really hard, but when he's with Mack it's like the noise multiplies. You touch one of his projects and suddenly you're hit with a Scottish explosion."

"That doesn't sound like him at all," she muses. "Maybe he doesn't like me very much."

"That's impossible," Skye snorts. "You're like the freaking sun from the tellytubbies."

"Oh, that really boosts my morale, Skye."

"You know it does."

...

The next day, she tries not to study him too closely, but the analytical part of her mind takes over and she finds herself frowning at him from the other side of the desk when she's positive he's not looking (which is really quite hard, his eyes don't stray often) in an attempt to puzzle him out. Unlike most of the other daily visitors, Fitz doesn't reveal all too much about himself. Even after several weeks, she really doesn't know anything about him, even though she's positive she's spilled enough about her own life to write a full-length novel.

It's normally her who starts up conversations with a cheerful smile, so she's slightly startled when it's him who, ultimately, makes the move that seals the beginning of an unforgettable friendship.

He gives her a small smile while she's attempting to work the machine and renew his book, gesturing to the ever-constant pile of assignments. "What're you working on?"

"Oh, this? It's just for.. for school," she says vaguely, trying not to bite her lip and give the game away. Not that there's anything wrong with attending the Academy, of course (she loves it, actually), but it's a rather.. prestigious school, and she's been given quite a few evil glares at the mention of it. She's learned to keep her mouth shut and stick to basics. But Fitz seems friendly enough, she reasons, and rather different and surely it won't matter if- "Can you keep a secret?" she blurts out.

He blinks at her in confusion, but he nods.

"I go to the Academy," she rushes out before she can lose courage and look like an idiot (which she probably already does, but that's completely besides the point). "You know, that famous one? I don't normally tell people this because it makes me seem kind of posh or I feel like I'm rubbing it in, but you seem nice enough and don't tell anybody but I'm actually the youngest to pass through, which is really rather exciting, I mean, breaking recorded history and everything."

For what seems to be the longest time he just stares at her, and suddenly she feels incredibly foolish and returns back to staring adamantly at the computer screen with an embarassed flush. Then he makes a small noise that might be shock in the back of his throat, and she's drawn to look at him again.

"Hang on," he mutters, frowning and looking at her with widened eyes. "You're Jemma Simmons?"

"Um.. I might be?" she squeaks, too surprised to say anything of sense.

"I go to the Academy as well," he says several minutes of shock later. "Leopold Fitz? Uh.." he scratches the back of his neck almost nervously, "second youngest in history, I think?"

She's left speechless for a moment, before she realises that she's on her feet and smiling excitedly at him. "Yes! I knew I recognised you somewhere! You're in engineering, right? Your designs are genius! I mean, engineering is not my field of exercise but I certainly know enough to tell that you're incredible!"

He's blushing now, but she's far too excited to care that she's embarrassed him. Besides, it's true. She's seen his work, marvelled at it from afar (and even on occasion smiled to herself as she thought up something to compliment his design). Really, she's just amazed that she hadn't recognised him before now.

"Yeah, well, you're Jemma Simmons," he counters. "You're brilliant. Aren't you messing around with dendrotoxin?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it messing around... but yes, it's terribly fascinating."

"Yeah, well I had an idea for this thing.. and I think the dendrotoxin would be a perfect fit with a few modifications and adjustments to fit the device. I've been meaning to track you down for ages now, but I didn't really know who you were, and.."

Before she knows it, she's beaming at him. "So it's a date, then?" And heartbeats later; "I mean, professionally of course."

And so, at precisely 4:06PM on a cloudy Friday evening, two geniuses strike up an extraordinary friendship in a friendly little library somewhere in America.

("Told you he was starstruck. The two nerds in a library. It's practically a modern Romeo and Julia."

"Take that hat off, Lance, and then we'll speak."

"No way, princess!"

"And it's Juliet, by the way!")


End file.
